Just Another Day | George Welsh

I take a deep breath. 
The crisp mountain air chills my nostrils,
To my lungs. 
The aroma of pine in the air
Is like a tree farm during Christmas. 
4,393 feet high in the clouds;
My view is magnificent. 
The green mountains, the picturesque covered bridges, the wild rivers, 
In my own Utopia.
The miles of lush wilderness, the white piles of snow,
the lack of human presence. 
I snap on my bindings—
Ready for another day.